A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing
by Romacido
Summary: D.C. is at the mercy of a vicious serial killer who appears to choose victims randomly and never uses the same M.O. In fact the only evidence linking the brutal murders to each other are the melodic compositions of Mozart left blaring at each crime scene.
1. Overture

**~Spring~**

"Adam?"

At first Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI couldn't say for certain but when he looked a little closer, the truth became evident. Amanda was fading.

"**Adam**!"

It was the first time since their visits that Spencer's image was captured on the ever rolling camera. He leapt to the side of the struggling victim and clasped his hands on each side of the boy's head.

"Adam, look at me! Stay with me! Adam, you **can** do this! You can beat her! Look-look at me!"

As the boy lost control of his body and slipped into violent convulsions, Reid held tighter. He ignored the hands of other doctors at his side and back, urging him to step away. After all this time, he **wasn't** going to let this moment slip through his fingers

From those two intense green pools of frustration, the icy gaze of Amanda was dissolving but she was still trying to resurface.

"Amanda… please…" Reid's voice trembled with desperation. "_Let go_…" He swallowed hard and never once broke eye contact, "Let Adam _go_."

The body in Reid's hands writhed and jerked with such force, there came a point where he didn't think he could keep holding on. But somehow he found the strength. He wasn't giving up. He was going to free Adam.

"ADAM!" He called again and tenderness emerged from the darkness behind a pair of timid green eyes.

A smile crept on Dr. Reid's lips as he knew this was going to be the day. Time was moving so slowly as the conflicting personalities fought for dominance with Adam Jackson's mind. In one last attempt for control, Amanda screamed.

Then out of nowhere, the chaos abruptly ended and Adam went still. His eyes fluttered shut and before Reid could do anything about it, the hospital's staff finally used force to intervene. Reid was knocked out of the way by two nurses who came to the aid and – if need be – revive the motionless young man.

Unable to move from his spot on the floor, Reid watched horrified as the silence in the room got to him. His gaze lingered on Adam waiting for some sign of life. Without any other option, Reid closed his eyes and silently asked whoever was listening, '_Please… please let him be alright_.'

And in the end, someone – somewhere – was in fact listening.

Harsh coughs tore from Adam's dry throat and his upper body slumped forward, heaving deep breaths. It only took one glance at the boy's face for Reid to know that after two years, one month, one week and five days of searching - he found and _released _the missing Adam Jackson.

* * *

**~ Author's Notes ~**

**Here we go again. Hopefully I've roped you right in with this prologue. This is my second attempt at a fan fiction and I thank you sincerely for taking the time to read it. **

**I realize that the situation may seem a little vague to some and to those people, I strongly urge you to watch episode 85 (4x20) of Criminal Minds. The name of it is, **_**Conflicted.**_

**Keep in mind however that this WILL NOT be an Adam/Amanda centric story. Of course this moment is crucial to the rest of the story but it is the only piece of the story that watching _Conflicted _is absolutely necessary. So for those of you who are lost… you won't be soon.**

**I'd like to quickly express my fanatical gratitude to everyone who supported and encouraged me through my first fanfiction, '**_**Hello Again, Goodbye Forever**_**.' There are a few names I'd like to specifically recognize for the outrageous love I received. In no particular order, I send mad love to thee:**

_Harriet123_, _purplerayz_, _Hockey35_, _Lillibella_** and** _WalkingPastSunday_


	2. Opera

_**'Issac Newton's law of thermodynamic energy suggests to us that energy is neither lost nor destroyed, it is simply transferred from one party to the next.'**_

* * *

Autumn arrived early in D.C. with an unusual chill. Light was scarce as the moon was but a sliver in the sky. Leaves, as well as confetti covered the stadium. Silence had fallen now but hours beforehand, a victorious win for the home team had been celebrated. After the crowds were gone, the star player and his girlfriend took advantage of a secluded spot under the bleachers.

Heavy breaths and deep gasps were all that filled the silence for awhile. Despite the girl's subtle whines of protest, her boyfriend's fingers cascaded down with the zipper of her hoodie between them. Goosebumps covered her shoulders as they was exposed to the cold. But it wasn't until a noise came from nearby that she pulled away and whispered, "Brent. Stop... Did you hear that?"

Rolling his eyes, the stocky, young athlete flashed an arrogant smirk and pulled the girl back into his grasp, "Hear what?"

From a different direction, she heard it again. Only this time it was closer. And now she felt a pair of hunger eyes on her that didn't belong to her boyfriend. All of this of course went undetected by him. As his tongue slid along her neck, the girl grew tense and tried again to recoil, "I think we should just go to your house. If we get caught on campus after hours-"

"Just shut up, Candi. Jesus. You're acting like such a cock-blo-"

Out of no where, the gleam of a knife appeared pressed to the boy's neck. Before his girlfriend had a chance to scream, she was ordered not to make a sound. If she disobeyed, Brent would die. Her trembling became more intense as the pretty blond was forced onto the football field at gun point. The dark, hooded figure, who was doubly-armed also carried a rope and there was no telling what he or she had planned.

The young girl followed every order. She did everything was told. But it wasn't enough to save her. Because sometime in the night... Candice Berkley screamed.

* * *

Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan released an exasperated sigh before entering the conference room to find most of the rest of his team waiting. His attention was first aimed at JJ who greeted him with a courtesy nod but no smile. "You know somethin' JJ," he began, taking his seat, "You're lucky I love you like I do 'cause had it been anyone else callin' in on the date I had tonight, I woulda' hung up."

Although he was clearly teasing, JJ didn't respond in Morgan's favor. She merely took his complaint seriously by offering a halfhearted apology and moving swiftly on. "I realize this could have waited until the morning but... something about this case is telling me we need to be on it now."

Gruesome images appeared on the wall from the projector, causing Garcia to look away. Realizing JJ was ready to start the meeting, Morgan quickly interjected before she could begin, "What about Reid? Wasn't he due back today?"

"His plane from Corpus had just landed when I called him. He should be here soon but he said to start without him and to fill him in on the details later."

A year ago, the idea of the young genius being late would have stunned the team. However, the demanding expectations of his occupation aside, lately all of Reid's free time had been spent preparing for the upcoming trial concerning Adam Jackson's appeal. He had been burning candles at both ends, devoting his every fiber towards preparing for the trial and gathering all the evidence he could to prove Adam's innocence.

While his intentions were all well and good - they were starting to cause some faulty setbacks in Reid's life. And the team was beginning to notice. But nothing could be done at that moment so without their youngest colleague, JJ began to brief the others on just what they were looking at.

"Alright. July 2. Thirtysix-year-old, Carly Davis and her four-month-old daughter, Emma. Neighbors found both mother and daughter sitting in Miss Davis's car, still in the garage with gunshots to the face. Police deducted that the deaths occurred sometime in the early morning as Miss Davis was leaving for her mother's. There were no witnesses and some cash, jewelry and other valuables were missing from the victims personal items."

It was strange to hear JJ speak in such a manner to the team. Sure, she was always professional but something was off about her on this particular night. Perhaps it was her maternal side, utterly disgusted by the horror that had befallen a newborn. The scene on the wall changed again and this time was somehow a little less heart-wrenching to the team.

"One month later, August 13. Peter Johnson, age forty-four and an unidentified woman - believed to be a prostitute - found stabbed to death in a hotel room. Nothing was taken despite Mr. Johnson having credit cards and a large sum of cash on him."

This time JJ waited just in case someone had a question but she was given the right of way to go on. Again, the images on the screen changed. The team felt sick again.

"Another month passes. On September 20, twelve-year-old Dexter White, was on a paper route in the early morning. He was strangled and his body was dumped in a wooded area close to his house. No real effort was made to hide the body."

None of them wanted to linger on that scene longer than they had to. So JJ was granted to move right along once again. "Then the time between murders is cut down significantly. October 6, a convicted sex offender named Jerry Hill was discovered in his own home, having suffered blunt head force trauma."

Finally, the burning question that JJ anticipated came from Morgan, "I'm sorry, JJ... but... it's lookin' to me like the victimology is all over the place. Each M.O. is different and the geography, aside from taking place in D.C. is scattered. What do you have to go on that these are connected?"

JJ answered with the next set of victims that appeared on the wall, "Roughly two hours ago, there was a complaint called in due to music blaring over the Cardozo High School's football field speakers. When police arrived to investigate, they discovered two bodies tied to the football goal post. The victims have been identified as students, Brent Lewis and Candice Berkley. They were stabbed multiple times in the chest, face and neck. Evidence also showed that Berkley had been sexually assaulted."

"Okay... another stabbing. Two victims. But... this ties to the other murders... how?"

Once again, JJ answered with an action. The flick of her wrist qued a classical melody to play from the computer in the conference room. She waited a few moments for the evidence to sink in before she went on to explain, "This song was the disturbance called in. It was blaring over the sound system of the football stadium. It was also playing from Carly Davis's car radio, a stereo in the hotel room where Peter Johnson was found, on Dexter White's iPod and from Jerry Hill's personal laptop. Every single murder has had this song playing when the cops arrived. It's a classical composition called-"

"Mozart's String Quartet No. 17 in B-flat major K. 458," a familiar voice chimed over the music from the doorway. As Reid greeted his teammates with his usual awkward smile and took his seat, he continued, "Though i-it's also commonly known as 'The Hunt' even though Mozart himself never actually called it that. I-it was actually the fourth of the six string quartets dedicated to a composer named, Joseph Hadyn. If I'm not mistaken the piece was completed in... 1748."

The dark circles under Reid's eyes were larger and more noticeable than the team remembered. He looked absolutely worn out but he hid it well. His eyes flew through the words of the case files in an effort to catch up. "Sorry I'm late, guys." He added without looking up from the documents. And before the team knew it, Dr. Spencer Reid was caught up. "So clearly if this is the same un-sub, that means he's probably been trying to figure out what he likes right? Testing the waters? Trying to figure out what method of murder suits him best?"

Hotch rubbed his forehead and added in, "It could be. Either way if we are looking at the same un-sub for these crimes, no one in D.C. is safe. Not with how these monthly gaps have been severed down to a matter of days. Either he's growing bolder or more impatient."

"So where do we start?"

With a deep sigh, Hotch laid down his copy of the case file and gazed at each member of his team as he referred to them, "Morgan, you and Rossi go and take a look at the latest crime scene at the high school and see if you can find anything. If you can, see if you can talk to the students who were close to the victims. Prentiss and JJ, the two of you talk to the families of Dexter White and Carly Davis. Reid and I will look into whatever we can find on Jerry Hill and Peter Johnson. "

* * *

**~Author's Notes ~**

**O.M.F.G.**

**First of all - I know it's not necessary but guys - I TRULY want to apologize for how long this took. Honestly. That was just ridiculous. Just know that I am NOT slacking. It's not that I do not have as much interest in this storyline. Quite the contrary, actually. This story is going to be a hell of a lot more like an actual episode. I want my second attempt at fan fiction to have more depth. There will be more evidence, more profiling and more... of everything that makes Criminal Minds amazing. **

**However - that being said - in order for me to present this story perfectly, I have to do A LOT of research and not just about criminal psychology and REALLY think ahead before posting. So yeah... if it takes me a little while to update - just know that it's not because I'm slacking off! **

**P.S. I finally learned how to officially name the chapters! So as you will notice, each chapter of this story will have a title. They are all going to refer to music. Not lyrics. But terms used for classical ensembles. For those of you who don't know, the word 'Opera' actually means work. So no - I wasn't referring to any fat lady when I decided on that title. It's referring to the BAU at work.**


	3. Mèsto

**Metropolitan Police Department, Washington D.C.**

"Agent Hotchner?"

With Agent Reid at his side, SSA Aaron Hotchner nodded at the deputy who greeted them.

"The sheriff's been expecting you. I'll let him know you're here."

While the two agents waited, Hotch glanced over and studied Reid a moment before asking, "How are you holding up?"

Reid looked at his boss curiously in mid-yawn and tilted his head, "Huh?"

"The Jackson case in Texas. How is that coming along?"

"Oh! Oh right, it's... it's good. It's going good. The uh... the judge has finally agreed to re-open the case and I should be getting a set date any day now."

Hotch nodded thoughtfully and waited a few moments before speaking again, "You know, Reid... if you need any help... remember I was an attorney before I joined the BAU. If there's anything I can do..."

There was a genuine gleam of thanks in Reid's eyes as he smiled softly and replied, "I know. I know that and... I really do appreciate it but... to be honest... I was kind of hoping that this could be something I do on my own, you know? I mean, if I felt like Adam didn't have a chance without anymore help, I'd owe it to him to come to you. But... I really think everything's going to be okay."

Before Hotch could say that he was sure it would be, the sheriff emerged from his office and approached them. "Thank for coming, agents. Once we made the connection between these killings, I knew you were the ones to call. I just wish we would have realized it sooner." As the man spoke, he retrieved a surprising small case file from a nearby desk and handed it over to the FBI agents. "Here are the files you asked for."

Flipping through them, Hotch raised an eyebrow and wore a perplexed expression, "This is all you have?"

"Well... yes." The sheriff answered hesitantly. "On those two particular victims of this case."

"Don't you mean three?" Hotch corrected. "There was a woman murdered with Peter Johnson. Or have your men forgotten that little fact because of her profession?"

Looking rather flustered, the sheriff explained, "To be honest, Agent Hotcher, Peter Johnson was an important political figure. Due to the nature of his death, some of the details were not fully documented."

Despite the sugar-coating, Hotch understood what the man was really saying, "So in order to clear the name and reputation of a faulty political figure, you're telling me evidence was tampered with and pieces of this case file were lost."

Clearly, the sheriff did not appreciate the agent's tone. He frowned as he replied, "For your information, Agent Hotchner, it was an attempt to protect the Mr. Johnson's family. They have gone through quite a lot on his account and quite frankly we didn't see the need in further damaging their name to the media."

Finally glancing up from the case file, Reid asked, "I thought the file said he wasn't married."

"Divorced. And we're talking about the kind of man who left all of his fiances in his girlfriend's name so the his wife couldn't touch a dime for child support."

Part of both agents wanted to sympathize with the sheriff's reasons for covering up all the facts. However, this wasn't making their job any easier. And they clearly weren't going to get much further by hanging around there.

Whatever the reason, Hotch found it despicable that a young woman's murder could be thrown aside so easily in the name of politics. For this reason, he barely acknowledged a proper farewell to the sheriff as he led Reid out of the office. "Reid, have an officer of this department assist you to the hotel where Peter Johnson was found and see if you can't find out anything about the woman he was with the night of the killings."

The young man nodded, "Yes sir... but... what about you?

"I'll be across town looking for anything I can at Jerry Hill's apartment that can help us with this investigation. At this point all we really have to go on is the victimology. If you find anything, call me immediately."

"Yes sir.'

* * *

**RICHARD AND MARGARET DAVIS RESIDENCE**

"Mr. Davis?"

"Can I help you?"

It was the first time JJ managed to show a smile since this case was brought to her. But it wasn't genuine. It was filled sympathy and remorse, "My name is Jennifer Jareau, this is SSA Emily Prentiss." The two women showed their badged, "We're from the FBI. If it's alright, we'd like to ask you a few questions about your daughter?"

The old man's eyes swept over his front yard and checked the driveway before hesitantly stepping aside to allow the girls in, "If you can keep this short. My wife just went out for groceries and she'll be back soon. This is been hard on her and she isn't as willing to talk about it."

"We completely understand, sir. Thank you." JJ entered after Prentiss who - unlike her colleague - did not take a seat.

"So what do you wanna know about Carly?" The man asked as he closed the door and joined them in the living room.

Prentiss spoke first, "Well... to start, can you tell us what kind of person Carly was?"

As Mr. Davis replied, he stole a sad glance at a photo on the wall of his deceased daughter and granddaughter, "Carly was a hard worker. Her mother and I raised her to be strong and independent. The kids of this country are just getting lazier and lazier as time goes by but Carly was different. She was... a good person. She gave everything her all... especially her work. She loved kids. That's why she decided to have little Emma."

"Decided?"

Slowly but surely, talking about his daughter was beginning to effect Mr. Davis. He took a moment to gather his bearings before speaking again, "She was always so focused on her life that she... just... sort of forgot to settle down. It was about two years ago that she came to us and said she was going to have a baby through artificial insemination.

"So... Carly wasn't involved in any romantic relationships?"

Mr. Davis spoke with a remorseful tone as he shook his head, "No."

"No old boyfriends? No... no one who would want to hurt her out of jealousy or ... anything like that?"

This time when Mr. Davis shook his head, he was more determined and certain rather than sad, "No. Carly was a good girl. I know most people want to believe they're children are good but... Carly really, truly was. She... she may not have had many friends... but she didn't have any enemies."

Though he was doing an excellent job of masking his despair, Mr. Davis's true feelings were painfully obvious to both JJ and Prentiss. They had hardly gained any information they could use but it seemed cruel to force the old man to relive such grief. The girls exchanged a look before JJ stood and said, "Thank you for your time, sir. I'm sorry we had to bother you with this."

"Just promise me you'll catch the son of a bitch who took them from us."

Just as Prentiss went to reply, she passed the fireplace which had line of framed pictures along the mantle. One in particular caught her eye. JJ, who was across the room from it, exchanged a few more words with Mr. Davis as he walked her to the door.

"I'm sorry... just one more thing, Mr. Davis?" Prentiss called out as she snatched up the picture. She turned around, holding the frame up and asked, "The little boy in this picture... how do you know him?"

In order to see the contents of the photo, Mr. Davis had to slip his bifocals on and stare a few moments. The sadness in his eyes magnified in a way the girls didn't think possible. "Oh... Dexter.. we... he's another loved on we lost this year... just two months after Carly."

"So... your family is related to Dexter White's?"

Confused as to how this mattered, Mr. Davis shook his head again, "No, no. No, Carly and Dexter's mama, Rachel were best friends since... oh I'd say middle school. Rachel was like a second daughter to us and Dexter was Carly's godson."

* * *

**Cardozo High School**

"Really? Alright... yeah. Yeah we're at the high school now. Kay, thanks JJ."

SSA Derek Morgan slapped the phone shut and turned to his colleague, SSA David Rossi, "So it turns out our first victim, Carly Davis was godmother to the fifth victim, Dexter White."

"So there's a connection..." Rossi thought out loud, "But it isn't enough to make a pattern with the other killings. From what we know at this point, the victims lived completely different lives. They all ran in different circles, lived in different neighborhoods..."

With a deep sigh, Morgan ran his hand over his head and looked at the grim crime scene, "Man this is one of those cases that I just can't wait to be done with."

Rossi's attention followed Morgan's to the goal post and the two men slowly made their way closer. "So if I was the un-sub... I was probably here hours before the killing."

"He watched the game."

"He waited until the parents and cheerleaders and players... everyone went home. Then he struck out against his victims when they were most vulnerable."

"But what kind of motive would this un-sub have for attacking high schoolers? Is it just the thrill of the hunt that gets him?"

A light bulb visibly went off in Rossi's mind. "That's exactly what it's about. You heard what Reid said the name of that song that's playing was. 'The Hunt' ... these victims are just prey to him. It doesn't matter who or where they are... just as long as they are at the right place at the right time."

Sarcastically, Morgan added, "In a matter of speaking."

From a distance, across the football field, a sight caught both his attention. Unsurprisingly, fellow students of the fallen victims had been showing up and dropping off flowers near the scene of the crime. A small crowd of students remained near the memorial. For the most part, they all displayed the emotions one would expect from grieving peers of a murdered high school couple.

However there was a single exception among the mourners. Though they were a fair distance from the display of flowers and cards, Rossi and Morgan could clearly see one kid carelessly walking over and kicking the small memorial.

"What's going on over there?" Rossi asked, again thinking out loud.

Without taking his eyes off the scene across the field, Morgan started towards the disturbed crowd, "I'll check it out."

Just before he could reach the students a fight broke out. The darkly dressed boy who was causing a scene found himself standing toe to toe with a fellow teammate of the fallen football star. He obviously did not appreciate his disrespectful actions. He grabbed the smaller student by the collar of his jacket and threw him against the fence.

"HEY! HEY! BREAK IT UP!" Morgan shouted, taking faster steps towards the students.

But the two kept at it and fists flew back and forth. As Morgan leapt over the fence to physically pull the boys apart, he overheard the smaller one scream, "THEY DESERVED WHAT HAPPENED! THAT LITTLE SLUT AND MY BROTHER GOT EXACTLY WHAT THEY DESERVED!"

* * *

**~ Author's Notes ~**

**I had to re-write this fucking chapter three times. THREE TIMES. Because I kept forgetting to save it properly. Fun. Fun. Fun. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I know this chapter was very... um... case-centric? But I hope that wasn't a problem and you didn't get bored. Please do let me know if there was anything off about this one. **

**So, I assume you all heard the news about A.J. Cook and Paget Brewster. It surprised me but unlike the other 90% of Criminal Minds fans, I didn't go into a violent rage and shout SEXISM! **

**I don't know... I mean, don't get me wrong. I do love JJ and Prentiss both but I guess I just don't see how much damage taking their characters off the show would do. I mean, look at what happened after Gideon left. Everyone thought it was the end back then and thus far, Rossi has done just fine and the show has stayed alive. People - in my opinion - really need to have a little more faith in the producers/writers/cast of Criminal Minds. That being said - I WILL miss J.J. and well... I guess this kinda puts a damper on my hopes for anything between her and Reid. **

**Anyway, like I said before, let me know what you thought. I take critique just as well (if not better) than compliments. I feel like I'm learning something when you guys help me out. And... what the hell, while you're at it, if you wanna vent to me about how you totally disagree with what I said up about regarding Cook and Brewster, have at it. I'm interested in what the rest of you think on that subject as well. **


	4. Agitato

"Well that was a waste of time."

Two things ran through Dr. Spencer Reid's mind as he exited the cheap hotel with a young police officer by the name of Dallas Flannigan at his side.

The first of which was how unbearably bright the sun was as it hit his eyes. Another excruciating spasm of shooting pains in his head overwhelmed the young genius but he did his best to hide it. Without making a sound – or even a face – Reid lifted his hand and casually rubbed his temples to ease the throbbing aches.

He wasn't sure when they started but they were becoming more frequent in the days of late. And it didn't help that today was turning out to be remarkably unpleasant; which leads to the second thought dwindling in Dr. Reid's mind at that moment.

Whether it was headaches that put him on edge or something else, Officer Flannigan stating the obvious just made Reid cringe with irritation. As if he needed some two-bit police officer to tell him that their investigation was going nowhere.

Of course, he had known from the start that it wasn't likely that anyone in the hotel would have remembered the woman that accompanied Peter Johnson that night. Still, it brought Spencer down to an unexpected low as they walked away with nothing.

When the agent did not reply to Flannigan's previous statement, the young officer uneasily added, "Well… where to now, boss?"

As the two men returned to the police car and those words registered in Reid's brain, something stuck him as odd in that moment. It had nothing to do with the case at hand but he couldn't help but dwell. After all these years in law enforcement; that was the first time anyone had called him by something that wasn't degrading.

There he was – pushing thirty – and Morgan was still adamant on calling him 'kid'. He never said anything of course but it was embarrassing. Even thinking about what Hotch had said earlier that day about helping him with Adam's case; it was like the team felt like they had to hold his hand.

A few uncomfortable moments of silence passed before Reid suddenly realized that the officer next to him was still waiting for an answer.

"I'm not sure," he began and reached for his cell, "Give me a minute to contact my superior."

The truth dawned on him as he replayed his own words in his mind. No wonder they treated him like a child. He was hardly in charge. He couldn't even take another step in the case until he was given the orders to do so.

But before he could dwell any longer on that subject, Reid's thoughts were scattered. The pain in his head flared up once again, this time triggered by his phone ringing. Through a pair of sore and tired eyes, he read 'MORGAN' flashing on the small screen.

To his right, Flannigan observed as Reid – who was obviously in pain – took in a deep breath before flipping his cell open, "Yeah Morgan?"

"Hey, I need you to come down to the station, kid."

Without realizing it, Reid impatiently grunted before shooting back, "Why?"

"We've got a suspect in custody and uh… I think you might have a better chance of cracking him than me or Rossi."

Again, but with less irritation in his voice, Reid asked, "Why?"

"Well… because he's a high school student. His name's Trevor Lewis. He's the younger brother of Brent Lewis, one of our newest victims."

Many questions danced on the top of Reid's tongue. Rather than go into the personal irks he felt from this request, his professional side remained dominant and he stuck to what mattered, the case. "We don't even have a profile yet. What makes you think it's him? What makes you think it's a high school student?"

Due to the pain he was in, Reid sounded a lot shorter with Morgan than he meant to be. But like his colleague, Morgan stayed professional and on topic. "He made a scene not too far from where the murders took place. He knocked some things around at this little memorial the students set up, then when one of them confronted him about it... the kid blew up. Started screamin' about how his brother deserved what happened. ... Look Reid, at the very least, this kid shows signs of a potential school shooter. Even if he isn't the un-sub... I think he knows something. Rossi's already on his way to ask the family some questions and go through the kid's room."

"And... why exactly do you need me there?"

Morgan couldn't quite piece together what was happening, but it almost seemed like Reid was stalling.

"Kid, is everything alright?"

"Fine."

"Reid."

It was silent on the other end for a good thirty seconds before Reid spoke again. "I have to call Hotch first to make sure that's what he wants me to do."

"I already took care of that, kid. He said you'd probably still be at the hotel. He said to give you a call and let you know what's up and to tell you to come to the station as soon as you were done there."

Spencer truly could not understand why he was being so sensitive about everything. It didn't matter who it was. Everyone and everything was getting under his skin. If looks could kill and if Morgan had been there, he would have suffered a great loss at the grim expression Reid wore as he shook his head and processed his orders.

"I'll be there in a few minutes." He said flatly and snapped the phone shut.

It was always like this. Any time there was a case involving a teenager or young adult, the team fell back on Reid. The victims or un-subs always ended up meaning more to him that he'd care to admit. Adam Jackson was a prime example of this. He was so sick of being placed with these kids who he identified with only to see them prosecuted, committed and/or killed. But whatever. That was the job right. The job he had sworn to never walk away from.

After contemplating for a few minutes, Reid's gaze drifted from the phone in his hand to the concerned eyes of the office next to him. "I need to get back to the station."

* * *

**~Author's Notes~**

**This chapter was meant to be have one more scene but I just didn't have time to add it. Not only that, but I'm wondering if this approach is wise. I mean... I'm trying to present this in a way that is similar to how the show is done. But I just don't know if the whole flashing back and forth between scenes works as well in script as it does visually. Know what I mean? Let me know your opinion on that matter. Also, I told you guys these chapters would take me a little longer to finish and again, I apologize for that. On top of this story being far more complex than my first fic - my personal life has just been off the hook lately.**

**So please try to understand that I really am doing my best here to keep you guys entertained. (At least until September. I haven't decided on whether or not I'll stick around after the sixth season starts.) The only reason I started writing fan-fic was because season five ended and I needed a way to get my BAU fix over the summer. But yeah... we'll see.**

**P.S. I watched The Fisher King episode last night and found myself giggling at one point. Has anyone else ever noticed that it appears to be Derek Morgan's official job to kick down doors? Seriously. It seems to me that he's the team's official door-kicker. Derek-the-Door-Kicker. Hehe. Has a nice ring to it. **


End file.
